Thranduil wandered through the halls of Elrond's vast house. It was after breakfast, and the twins had proved not to be deaf or mute, speaking quite politely after Thranduil bid them a good morning. They had gone out with Legolas to show him around Rivendell.
Thranduil paused to glance briefly out the window and saw Legolas skipping down the long flights of stairs with the twins in tow. He continued on, hoping his son would not break any windows, until he reached the end of it. He knocked on the door ahead and went in, having announced his presence. He stopped in the doorway and looked sympathetically at Erestor, remembering the conversation Legolas had had with the elf previously at dinner.
The room held a desk surrounded by walls lined by bookcases overflowing with papers, books, and files. Erestor lay on the sofa behind the desk, one arm lying across his eyes, quite clearly asleep.
Thranduil eyes the stacks of paperwork sliding off the desk from their lopsided piles before he shut the door and set to work with grim efficiency.
Two hours later:
"Erestor!"
Thranduil looked up from behind the desk as Glorfindel came into the room. He chucked another out-of-date paper behind him to the floor. It drifted down to join the paper-covered floor.
"What in Arda are you doing?" Glorfindel asked, his arms hanging limply at his side and his eyes wide open.
Thranduil eyed another document with skeptism. "I am a spy, gaining inside information as to Rivendell's position so I can wage war . . ." He looked up and grinned. "I am enjoying myself, Glorfindel. Can I help you?"
"Ah-ah, yes—no. You could not find what I need."
Thranduil blinked and put the paper in his hand on a small pile to his right. "I doubt that. The system is easy to follow, and your papers were unmistakable, bearing your name along the top. You will find your files rolled together and tied with red ribbon on the bookcase along the left wall."
Glorfindel followed Thranduil's finger and went to collect his papers. "You do know you are here to relax and enjoy yourself. This is Erestor's work."
"Mmm. Erestor is sleeping."
Glorfindel sat down in a chair facing the desk. He watched Thranduil for several minutes.
"Do you need something to do?" Thranduil asked, his eyes on the desk before him. "The floor always needs to be cleared of the rubbish collecting there. It is all out-of-date and unnecessary copies, before you ask."
Glorfindel considered the request for a moment before he got down on his hands and knees and started collecting papers. He scrunched them into tight balls; if a king could sit at a desk and work like a servant, a balrog slayer could conqueror a floor of rubbish instead of a monster.
He stood up after the last paper had been collected and decompressed into a crinkled ball. Thranduil pushed his chair back and stretched his arms, meeting Glorfindel's eyes with a smile.
"Work well done," he said, and looked at the overflowing waste bin.
"You should awaken Erestor," Glorfindel suggested as he tossed the ball in his hands onto the waste bin.
Thranduil went to stand beside the sofa and leaned down to gently shake Erestor awake. The elf groaned and sat up with a jerk as his eyes fixed on Thranduil. "My lord?"
"The sun sets," Thranduil said. "You should retire and finish your rest in bed."
Erestor looked at him in confusion. "But it cannot be so late in the day . . ."
"You slept for a quite a while," Thranduil said, wondering why Erestor's eyes opened so wide in horror and his hand flew to his mouth.
"The paperwork!" Erestor gasped.
"Peace be with you; it is done!" Thranduil said, feeling immense satisfaction as he cast out a hand to the cleared desk.
"What? But how?" the elven secretary stared in bewilderment at the desk, unable to believe the overflowing piles of work were . . . gone.
"I tidied up a bit," Thranduil explained. "I had nothing better to do and, as I happened to be passing by, I came in to do what I could."
"Forgive me. I failed to do my work."
"You are exhausted and clearly overworked," Thranduil said kindly, it occurring to him Elrond did not seem to treat his secretary as well as he might. "I would b to, if I had not the help of my father in times of need. While Elrond may take the meaning of ruler in a different light then I, and not . . . contribute as much as he could—as I do—to his kingdom, that does not mean I am the same. I may be king, but that is not something I use to toss all my work onto someone else's shoulders."
Erestor's shoulders relaxed slightly. "I confess I . . . thought of you as I do Elrond." He brightened. "And while I am here, I would like to say how much I enjoyed my conversation with Legolas. He has such spirit!"
Thranduil smiled and his eyes slid sideways. "Yes . . . sometimes a little too much for me!"
Erestor grinned. His smile faded as the door burst open and Elrond came into the room.
"Erestor! Oh, Thranduil!" the elven lord exclaimed, "I have not seen you since our discussion after breakfast . . ."
"I have been busy, talking to others of your realm," Thranduil said smoothly. "Erestor and I were discussing his fine work."
"He has been behind for months," Elrond replied in doubt. He brushed that aside as he questioned the secretary, "I am here for my papers. Have you finished?"
"Yes, hir nin," Erestor replied, with a dip of his head.
Elrond's eyes traveled to the desk and he stopped short. "Gracious valar above, I cannot believe my eyes! For once you have caught up with your work!"
"It is relieving to see an empty desk," Erestor said truthfully, not daring to mention Thranduil's part in it, knowing it would go down the wrong way with his lord.
"I notice you look tired. You may have tomorrow off," Elrond continued. "Now, where are my papers?"
"Yes, hir nin. Hannon le, hir nin. Er . . ."
"You tied them with a green ribbon, I believe," Thranduil said helpfully.
Erestor rose to his feet and snatched up the bundle of papers bound together by a length of green ribbon. He presented them to Elrond with a bow. Elrond took the papers and left the office.
Erestor cast a grateful look at Thranduil before he noticed Glorfindel.
"Elrond is right," Glorfindel said. "You should go rest. I know how hard you have been working . . ."
Erestor ran a hand across his forehead. "Yes, I will. Excuse me, my lords."
As he slipped out of the room, Thranduil looked at his companion. "Shall we enjoy some refreshing wine before I embark to hunt down my spirited son?"
Glorfindel shook the sheaf of papers in his hand. "I will deposit these in my chambers and join you shortly. And if I may, I would like to accompany you on your search for Legolas."
"If it comes to that, I would be glad for your company!" Thranduil replied.
Glorfindel met him in the living room of Elrond's house but the search for Legolas was delayed as Elrond appeared and insisted he and his wife join them for a drink. The four elves ended up sitting out on the terrace in the evening light before dinner, staring down at Rivendell and sipping wine, both fathers wondering where their offspring were.
Thranduil was halfway through his first cup when he heard a small voice.
"Ada?"
Thranduil twisted and saw Legolas emerging from behind him, holding his arm. "Yes?"
"I have cut myself," Legolas said, displaying his injured arm and the blood running down it as he came to stand beside his father. "I was playing with the twins and their friend down below in the valley, and there was a sharp rock. I fell on it while we were wrestling."
Thranduil set down his wine cup and examined the abrasion on the arm, glad no veins were severed. Elrond, his mouth half open to tell Legolas the healers would deal with the injury, shut it as Thranduil wiped away the blood on Legolas arm, splashed cold water from a glass pitcher sitting near, and said, "It will stop bleeding soon, Legolas. It is not a bad cut. But, in the future, you might try finding less rocky ground for your playing."
"Yes, ada. Are we eating soon?"
"Dinner will be served in five minutes," Celebrian answered, running a critical eye down Legolas's mud-spattered and askew clothes, and wondering at Thranduil's lack of discipline as she watched him kiss the flushed cheek of the offending sinner.
"Thanks." Legolas looked down at his clothes. "I suppose I will run down to our house and change for dinner."
"I will come with you," Thranduil said, heaving himself out of his chair.
Glorfindel felt a twinge of discomfort as he watched the elf king walk away with Legolas skipping ahead. As the shadows swallowed them, he sat back sadly, hating to think of Thranduil punishing the bright-eyed elfling for his dirtiness, injury, or the fact he had been fighting. He knew Elrond would have doled out a heavy scolding and at least a few smacks if he saw his sons in such a state, and it saddened him to see the grieved eyes of Elladan and Elrohir. But after knowing Legolas, and seeing him start a discussion regardless of the 'children should be seen and not heard' rule, it did not seem like Legolas had the kind of father who ruled elflinghood with a strap!
"He is much to free with that child!" Celebrian said with a shake of her head. She rose to her feet. "I think I will go see if my sons are in an equally wretched state!"
"Are you coming in, Glorfindel?" Elrond asked, as he rose to follow his wife.
Glorfindel shook his head. "Nay. I think I will sit out here a while longer and reflect on life as I just saw it."
Elrond shrugged and walked away. Glorfindel twirled his wine cup without drinking and stared down at the twinkling lights of the valley before he found peace inside his heart and went inside to have dinner delivered to his room.
Earthdragon: I am glad the dinner came away as I intended, and that I managed to portray the uncomfortable atmosphere as well as I could, even if it was a barrel of laughs! Thanks for reading.